


Overtly Covert

by cielsdemon



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Case Fic, F/M, Implied Relationships, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cielsdemon/pseuds/cielsdemon
Summary: “He’s what?”“On assignment, miss. The details are confidential, I’m afraid.”“Confidential,” Grell repeats, incredulous. “To me?”





	Overtly Covert

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, we're alive! Barely. Life has been a whirlwind lately and writing hasn't been high on my list of things to do.
> 
> This is blatantly based on an episode of Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries which 1) is a fantastic show and if you like murder mysteries you should def check it out and 2) has a will-they-won't-they main couple that gives me such Grelliam vibes I lose my mind every time I rewatch.
> 
> Anyway, I've been working on this for a little while now when I had the motivation. I had an absolute blast writing this and I really hope you enjoy reading it! Enjoy.

“He’s what?”

 

“On assignment, miss. The details are confidential, I’m afraid.”

 

“Confidential,” Grell repeats, incredulous. “To me?”

 

“Even to you, miss.” Will’s secretary, Bethany, looks apologetic. She glances around then leans forward, voice lowered. “I can tell you this: he’s undercover.”

 

Grell’s eyes widen. “Like at the circus?” Bethany nods and Grell groans. That was an absolute disaster. Will is a terrible actor and a bad liar to boot. Sebastian-darling and the brat interfered and nearly botched the whole job, and Grell had had the image of Will in that _ghastly_ suit seared behind her eyelids for a month.

 

Bethany makes a sympathetic noise as she returns to her documents. The plump rounds of her cheeks dimple as she smiles briefly. “That’s all I can say, miss. I’m sorry.”

 

Grell gusts a sigh before she returns the smile. “You’ve said more than enough, dearie. I’ll do some investigating on my own.”

 

— —

 

It takes Grell three days to determine the station at which Will has landed a job. She asked Ronnie about it and found him as baffled as she. “Don’t they know what crap he is at undercover?” he had asked.

 

“One would think!” Grell had replied, voice at least two octaves higher.

 

She’s worried. Not that she’ll tell anyone that.

 

— —

 

Because she’s nothing if not a superb actress, Grell arrives at the station incognito. That worn out old butler suit of hers has nothing on the one she creates for this. Her bright red hair has been muted to something slightly less ostentatious and her teeth have been flattened into neat, white rows. She wears the former up, coiled in loose twists at the nape of her neck. She’s dressed in a cream blouse and dark blue trousers—not her flashiest outfit, certainly, but appropriate for the character she’s playing.

 

“Hello,” she says to the harried gentleman pouring what must be his fourth cup of coffee this morning. “I’m here to interview your newest hire. I’m with Doteye Publishing, you spoke with us last week.” She’s done her research; the gentleman’s surprise fades and he nods, pointing her down a hallway. “Thank you.”

 

She strolls off, walking confidently down the hall. She passes sound booths on either side, studios filled with men (and women; bless this new century) standing before microphones and talking. There’s a shiver in her chest as she reaches the only room without a name displayed outside it. Will wouldn’t have bothered with that, not when he’ll only be around for a few weeks.

 

Inside stands Will.

 

“Oh,” Grell murmurs, struck still by his appearance.

 

This is _nothing_ like the circus suit.

 

For one, it’s not horrendously patterned. Plaid would not have been her first choice but it suits Will. The colors are muted so as not to draw attention, but brown warms his complexion. The hollows of his cheeks are less stark and the glint in his eye less lethal.

 

She can see his mouth moving as he speaks into a microphone on a stand in front of him. She can’t hear him, but she wouldn’t be listening even if she could. She can’t pull her eyes away. Even his _spectacles_ are different. Did someone train him in the art of transformation? Someone besides her?

 

Grell makes an involuntary noise into the knuckle she’s pressed to her lips.

 

Will’s gaze shifts and she sees it on his face when recognition dawns. He doesn’t falter, lips still going through the motions until he’s finished whatever drivel he’s spouting. After quickly removing the headphones he was wearing, he strides out of the room and right into Grell’s space.

 

“What are you doing here?” he whispers, the cool steel of his voice sending a shiver up her spine.

 

“I had to see for myself.” Her fingers curl beneath the deep blue silk of his tie. “Clayton. I won’t take offense to my being left in the dark. Clearly you’re fairing far better in this role than your last. Still—”

 

“Be quiet.”

 

“—I just wonder who prepared you for this, is all. Seeing as your last undercover mission was such an _interesting_ experience...”

 

“Grell,” Will hisses, gripping her upper arm.

 

“Annabelle,” she corrects with ease. “With Doteye Publishing. I’m here to interview you, Mister Steel. What a clever name.”

 

“To what purpose? Never mind.” Will looks down the hall both ways, then ushers her to the left and into an empty office. The door closes behind them and she’s on him in an instant. Hands at his shoulders, her body presses up against his, pinning him to the door. “Grell.” His voice tightens around her name.

 

“Shh.” Grell presses one white gloved finger to his lips. “I have a whole list of questions, Mister Steel. First, who sent you? And why. Usually I’m the one dispatched on these undercover jobs. Even sending Ronnie would have made more sense than—”

 

Will covers her mouth with one hand. He isn’t wearing gloves. Grell nearly goes weak in the knees. “Stop talking.” She looks at him through kohl rimmed lashes and nods. “They needed a responsible agent in the field.” He squeezes her jaw to prevent the outburst he knows is coming. “Despite your effective record, you are still considered a risk when it comes to long term placement.” Very slowly, he releases his grip on her.

 

Grell takes a step back and works her jaw. If she weren’t so impressed by his presence, she might be angry. “Long term.” She looks up at him, eyes narrow. “How long?”

 

“The first scheduled death isn’t for another three days,” Will answers. He adjusts his coat and straightens the fit of his tie. Grell’s eyes track the movement of his hand.

 

“First,” she echoes. “How many are scheduled? Let me see your List.” She extends a hand and scowls when Will simply dismisses it with a wave of his own. “Will! I can help. Wouldn’t it be more fun to be on a case together? We haven’t been. Not since...”

 

Will clears his throat. “If I require assistance,” he says, “I will file the necessary paperwork to bring additional reapers on board. Until then.” He gestures to the door. “Miss...Annabelle, was it? I’ll ask you kindly to take your leave. I’m afraid I’m too busy for your questions at the moment.”

 

Grell tosses her head as Will opens the door to see her out. “You haven’t seen the last of me, Mister Steel.” She turns in the hallway to face him, the toes of their shoes touching. “I have more questions that need answering.”

 

“Yes, Miss Annabelle,” Will says, meeting her eyes. “I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

 

Grell leans in, her breath against his lips. “Count on it,” she whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you caught the subtle reference to Miss Fisher, cookies for you ;)
> 
>  
> 
> [As always, here's our blog](http//:cielsdemon.tumblr.com)


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